


The Killing Kind

by LadyProto



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Blood, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insanity, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Other, Psychological Drama, The Unversed (Kingdom Hearts), attention seeking, van is insane and Riku isn’t having it today, xion in passing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 19:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18125414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyProto/pseuds/LadyProto
Summary: The deep stares back and speaks to me((Riku meets Vanitas as the two roam the halls of Castle Oblivion.))





	The Killing Kind

“Pussy.”

Great. The new addition to this demented circus. Riku stops in mid-stride. The long, narrow halls leave nowhere to hide, so he turns on his heels to speak to the specter directly. A small shadowed figure leans lazily against the white walls. It’s too hard to made out directly, but Riku thinks he sees spikes of black hair. He lets out a low even hiss. “Freak.” 

Though the shadow keeps his face hidden, his body is on full display. His shirt is gone, most likely shredded from the looks of the fresh gashes in his torso. Blood splatter mars the dark leather pants that are slung low on his thin hips. His belt is half undone, and maybe that’s the reason that despite all the blood, despite all the raw wounds, his voice is a deep contented purr. “Is play time over?” He’s nearly bent over on himself as he picks absentmindedly at the hair underneath his navel.

Riku narrows his eyes. He follows the blood as it gathers to a point above a the kid’s left nipple. The drop hangs heavy and fat, like juicy pomegranates. This isn’t Roxas’s cringey depressive episode, and this isn’t Zexion waxing poetic. This punk kid is not one of the usual organization members. Riku’s fingers dance as he plays over the possibility of summoning his sword. He’s not sure what Ansem has done to his brain, but he finds himself rawly excited at the idea. He chokes the feeling down, and struggles to put on his passive face. “Who are you?” 

There’s a low rumble of a chuckle, building up like an approaching train. Then like an earthquake it rips through the kid’s entire body. He throws his head back, and his features come in to view. “Let’s just say-“ His eyes illuminate yellow like lamp lights at midnight. “I’m a shadow of an old friend.”

“I-” Fuck, he hates when his voice cracks. This kid looks like Sora, but twisted like a photographic negative. Instead of the islander tan, his skin has given into the the waxen paleness of corpses. The chubbiness of his cheeks have fallen into malnourished hollows. The wild glint in his familiar eyes sends Riku’s head spinning. “Sora-?”

“Guess again.” He steps from the darkness and opens his arms wide, displaying the carnage across his chest. The soft lines of definition in his abdominals were broken by brutal, deep cuts. Whatever had snagged him was not gentle, but the the smile on his face said he probably enjoyed it. The worst of the injuries had been an attempt to sever him from hip to shoulder, left to right. The open wounds still trickles blood in the places that hadn’t scabbed over. He shows no intention of cleaning his wounds. “Unlike him, I actually have balls. The name’s Vanitas.” 

The blood trail across his chest gathers more weight. It drips to the ground, but instead of splattering across the white tile it takes an organic form. Long spindly arachnoid legs pinch off from the blood droplet. It scurries like a cockroach, but is big enough that Riku can hear its mandibles click. He steps on it. It turns back into blood under his heel. Vanitas hisses. 

Riku stands dumbly, staring at the blood stain on his boot. When he looks up the kid is swaying slightly. That’s Sora -- or some approximation of him, but Sora would never be so crude or cruel. Riku doesn’t have the mental fortitude to deal with the dissonance. “That’s a girl’s name.” 

Vanitas sneers. “It means emptiness, if you aren’t illiterate.” His body goes lax, and his arms drop to his sides. The blood loss must be catching up to him because he returns to leaning against the wall for support. When he’s not performing his mania, there’s a strange, innocent sexlessness about him. He was Sora, a child, a sixteen year old boy on the cusp of becoming a man. 

Riku pursed his lips together. That stage of his own life wasn’t far behind him. His words are tinged with pity. “You’re that half-hearted weirdo Xemnas mentioned.”

Vanitas slams his fist into the wall behind him. The sconces quiver from the impact. Even in his weakened state, this kid commanded thunder. “I am _not half!_ ” Vanitas glances back up at Riku, the fluttering of his long eyelashes directly contradicting the uneasy glow of his eyes. “It’s past your bedtime. Or does the house pet get special privileges for kissing enough ass?”

“I am not a _pet._ ” Teeth gnash, Riku turns his head. Behind his eyelids he sees the bedroom Maleficent gave him for being such a _good boy._ A perfect lap dog that stayed at the heel of his betters. He cast away his home, his friends, everything -- but he was a good boy and so he got a nice room. The ghost of Ansem laughs in his head, and Riku feels the dark fire dance between his fingers. 

There’s that laugh again. Sharp, brief, and sudden, crashing to a halt in the same manner that glass shatters. From it, a creature of tangled green limbs emerges. It splats pathetically on the ground. “I’d call you a guard dog, but you’ve never been loyal to anyone. Though-“ Vanitas moves his fingers lower down his belly, eyes on Riku as he tried to gauge his reaction. “I wonder if those two even really miss you. Maybe if you get real good at licking boots, they’ll actually include you in something this time, _pet._ ” The words drip, full, thick and bubbling like tar.

The weakness manifests as Riku closes his eyes a millisecond longer than a normal blink. Who is this kid? Which of his many sins had caused a ghost of his friend to taunt him? But Vanitas is right. It’s been this way since they were kids. Their twelve year old selves had been innocent enough to believe they could take a raft to other worlds and Sora and Kairi were going to leave him on that island. He’d spent his whole life chasing -- No. He’s not going to let some precocious kid do this to him. He balls his hands into fist. “Go fuck yourself.”

Vanitas's fingers slip, rippings the swollen skin of one of his wounds. He sucks air through his teeth. The pain deepens his voice into a sultry rumble. Another creature develops, this time a large, bulbous fungal looking protrusion. It oozes with something foul. When Vanitas looks back up to Riku, he pushes his full lips into a pout. “Now that’s an idea- which one should I pick?” He counts off his choices on freshly bloodied fingertips. “Ventus is a piece of shit. But there's always the girl.”

Replicas? No, Vanitas means something different. Riku eyes him warily. There’s a cluster of sparks in his stomach. 

“-But she gives it up so easy now. Girls just don’t have any fight in them anymore.” Vanitas flutters his eyelashes once more, before pushing himself into a standing position again. His reopened wounds only serve to make him more unsteady, more unhinged. “Let’s compare notes.” He drops his head low, and looks up through his jagged bangs. “Does Kairi whine when you put it in?”

Nausea builds. His mind stalls. The little monstrosity from earlier wraps it’s prehensile tip around his leg. Riku keeps his teeth clenched trying not to react. Every muscle in his body wants to strangle this kid. He shouldn’t be surprised -- these people are the villains for a reason, but to hear the thoughts of rape come from Sora’s mouth was nauseating. “Vanitas.” Riku says the name just to separate the two in his head. 

“Yeah, she says my name just like that, but with more tears behind it, you get it?” Vanitas plants his hand on the wall by Riku's shoulder. “But I guess she never gave you the chance to try, did she? Well you aren’t missing much if she’s anything like that clone. But she’s got this thing she does with her tongue, like a lollipop. No teeth. It’s great.” Riku grimaces. The madness and fresh blood drip off the kid’s body. He’s not tall enough to truly box him in, but the darkness is suffocating. “Of course, I am a _slut_ for blue eyes. And that Sora kid? He looks so Innocent and _tight._ ” Vanitas brushes Riku’s hair back from his shoulders. His hands are cold. How is he still standing? “You can have what’s left. Assuming there is any.” 

Riku closes his eyes again, and for one sweet moment there is no fear. The tendrils of darkness become coaxing hands that caress his fragmented psyche. He wants what’s being offered -- power over Kairi, Sora, _himself._ He takes a deep breath of the heady scent, allowing himself one last hit. He flickers open his eyes and stares coolly down at Vanitas. “Fuck. Off.”

Vanitas doesn’t move. “You thought about it.” He smiles, genuinely happy at the idea. A yellow bouncy creature forms from the sweat caught on Vanitas's brow. “You're just like me.” 

Riku follows the small bouncing creature with his eyes. He’s starting to understand. Turning his head, He met Vanitas’s gaze. His smile is still impossibly wide, displaying slick fanged canines. Those don’t come from Sora. He must have been crazy enough to file them down like that on his own. Riku unconsciously moves his tongue across his own teeth. “I am nothing like you.” 

Vanitas’s laugh is weaker this time. His elbows shake. “Then why are you here? In this fucking castle--” His breathing becomes shallow. “-with the rest of us?” 

There’s no answer Riku can form. How could he even attempt to justify the decisions that drew him into these white walls? He can’t even explain to himself why he’s clad in that dark coat cowering away from the the light like a heartless. It wouldn’t take much to brush past the injured boy, but his resolve wavers. “Get off me.” He cringes at just how small and needy his voice sounds. 

Vanitas draws a shaky breath, and the air rushes across Riku’s cheekbones. “You’re drawn here because you’re drawn to darkness. Just like the rest of them. But you and I -- we’re special.” He holds his body teasingly close to Riku’s chest and lets him ride out that last wave of darkness that emanates from Vanitas’s aura. “We’re the parts Sora left behind. He doesn’t want to find you.” 

“I said get off me!” His eyes fly open, and Riku seizes Vantias’s arms, his fingertips burning with dark fire. Flesh burns. The freshly spilt blood sizzles. Riku pivots, and the tables turn. Vanitas hits the wall head first with a panged grunt. He slides down the wall, the skin of his back catching on the rough boards. 

This does nothing to deter Vanitas. He holds his burnt arm, shrieking with laughter. He throws his own head back against the wall just to feel his skull bounce again. Pain is so fucking hilarious when he can control it. He head drops violently to his chest, and the arthritic crack sounds as if vertebrae have snapped. In the midst of his blood loss, his golden eyes bob up and down like an angler fish. Even in his weakened state he advertises nothing but danger. “What do you think he going to do when he sees what you’ve done?!” He gasps for air in between his laughs. The bruised ribs only make it more difficult. “The light doesn’t want us back!” 

Riku takes a step back, eyeing the crumpled mess with disdain. In the bowels of this castle, Vanitas is going to bleed out before anyone finds him, though Riku doubts anyone’s going to come looking. Vanitas - who had called Riku a pointless pet — was now going to be left behind. He let the moment linger, savoring the power more than anything else. He turns on his heels, starting down the long hallway once more. He calls over his shoulder. “Go to hell.” 

The manic laughter surrounds Riku, cascading out of control even as he tries to make his escape. The madness surges like ocean waves. “We’re already here, Riku!” Vanitas’s voice cracks. The screech at the end of his words is haunting. He howls, like a chained dog begging for a reaction, even if the reaction is fear. A new monstrosity is born from his screams. A tiny ragdoll of mismatched parts is forced into existence. “We’re in hell and we’re the demons!” 

The little creature bites at Riku’s heels. It’s too tiny to do more than annoy him. It’s yellow button eyes look up at him with scrunched brows. Riku regards the soulless doll with detachment. He breathes deeply, before crushing it underfoot. 

Vanitas screams. Riku doesn’t look back. 

**Author's Note:**

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